It could only be you
by Yawwii
Summary: A Sam/Gabriel SLASH eventually :P fic, don't like don't read. I own nothing. Sadly. Or maybe happily for the masses... Basically a Sam Gabriel denial fic, takes place after 5x22, 'cuz I'm not willing to accept the evens of 5x19 and 5x22. spoilers!
1. Chapter 1

Okay, So I promised myself I wouldn't right the notes to introduce this until I could update, as a sort of incentive, and I can't believe how many people put this in their alerts box! As far as I'm concerned this is one of my poorest pieces, written at around 3 am! Anyway clearly that's evidence other people were as sad as me at Gabe's death T^T. So anyhow, I'll be updating shortly (like an hour tops, have to type it up :P). Thankyou to everyone for reading (: This is basically my therapy (:

He looked up into the cold eyes of his brother, maybe once, a long time ago, they would have held remorse, maybe even sorrow, at killing his brother, but now, as he felt the blade burning through his grace with a ferocity to match Jerusalem Oil, all Gabriel could see was the dull emptiness of the damaged vessel's eyes, no emotion apparent in the ice-cold depths.

And Gabriel? His eyes were just about the complete opposite, the warmth of his hazel-brown eyes nearly made Lucifer choke, the pure love and almost adoration seeping from his soon-to-be-lost brother's eyes almost pulled at the Devil's long still heart (because really a heart isn't a combination of muscle, fat and blood, it was the very centre of emotion for every creature with a soul). The magnitude of emotions flashing from Gabriel's eyes got very close to overwhelming the fallen angel, until his corporeal vessel's eyes were overcome by the last of his grace bursting from them and every other orifice.

In the last few moments before his existence ended Gabriel was allowed a glimpse into the future through his once brother's eyes. His last earthly thought was '_I have to save Sam'_.

Lucifer left quickly, unable to continue looking upon his brother's human corpse, surrounded by the outline of the wings that burned into more pieces than there are stars in all of space. If the Devil thought having his wings plucked from him was painful he would surely perish from the sheer torture of them burning with the intensity of a sun a-thousand fold the size of the one the earth orbits.

Sam stared at his brother, bloody and beaten, propped up against his beloved car, through the eyes of a monster, fuelled by cold hatred of everyone and everything. He was fighting, he really was, and he had been since he'd agreed to the suicidal battle of wills. Looking back on it Sam was nothing short of arrogant for thinking this would work.

But then it happened, a miracle, the sun, the same sun he'd cursed for it's heat, flashed fierce in reflection on the Impala's smooth surface and Lucifer was completely and wholly overtaken with grief for his fallen brother, his favourite jester, and Sam took advantage. He'd nearly won at the memory of Gabriel, everything he stood for, images of his cocky 'I-know-something-you-don't-know' grin, his 'oh-really-boyyys-you're-so-foolish' eyebrow quirk, his sheer defiance to Lucifer until the end, flashed into the front of their minds, further increasing the Devil's grief, and aided Sam in what seemed like an impossible victory.

He could feel himself winning, every fibre of his being was beginning to hum at finally having their true owner in control, his consciousness finally reaching further than a box in his own mind. Samuel Winchester caught sight of the army man stuck inside the Impala's door-tray, and he remembered, he remembered the home he and Dean had shared growing up, for they never truly felt alone on those warm summer nights, tucked up with his brother in the backseat of the American muscle car, their father gone for a while and their only company a .45, they scratched their names under the interior, played countless games of I-spy, told each other stories and dreamt about their mother. And he won. He regained control of his overly large limbs and intellect, reaching quickly into his pocket and pulling out the rings, echoing his brother's sentiment of it'll be okay.

Michael's reappearance was unfortunate, but unavoidable, and as the four of them fell into the pit, Sam only had one regret; the people who had sacrificed their lives for the Winchesters. There were too many.

He awoke suddenly and almost painfully, his chest burning in such pain and agony he was sure he'd explode. He tried to reach out to ease the pain but was unsuccessful. A gentle sushing sound lulled him back into unconsciousness.

Once his eyes opened for the second time he realised something was wrong. He shouldn't be alive. Why was he alive? How was he alive? When was he resurrected? Where's Lucifer-did he take Sam?

An onslaught of questions plagued his mind and it was all he could do not to breakdown under the intensity of his fear.

_Fear..._

He shouldn't feel fear. He should feel nothing. He should *be* nothing.

Before he could panic further a deep and peaceful voice filled his mind;

~Gabriel, Messenger, Beloved Angel. You were one of the few who did not turn on your brothers and sisters. You fought for the justice of my most vulnerable creations, and for that you are rewarded. You may live. Your vessel's mind has ascended to live in my gardens for eternity, you however shall remain in possession of the shell, for you will need it on your last mission, you cannot leave it, for that would be an abomination. Listen carefully Gabriel, I am giving you a chance, once you have done this you can live your life in any way you so choose, you will not be called upon, but also you will not be hunted or turned from heaven's gates. Your mission is arduous; you must save Samuel Winchester from Hell. ~

The archangel's panic returned immediately. Sam was in hell? How? Why? Did they succeed? Why did Dean agree? Why was there a new pain in his chest at this? Why could he feel?

~You have been given the gift of human emotion, something you may have come to recognize as Loki, but with a far greater intensity, you know humans well enough to recognize the different emotions as they progress. Good luck Gabriel, I wish you success with your mission. ~

And with that Gabriel was dropped on earth, in the very cemetery Sam had sacrificed his life. Without thinking twice the archangel turned Loki descended into the fiery horror that is perdition.

A/N Okay, sorry about it's previous shiteness, I hatttte writing God.

I did have little divisions for view changes I guess they just don't show up? Sorry about that :/ The ~'s now signify when the view point changes.

Thankyou again for reading ^^ (: 3

P.s the ***'s are 'cuz I don't know if the squiggly lines showed up :/


	2. Chapter 2

Okayyy, sooo I updated! Thanks for all the alerts! I'm seriously shocked everytime I get an email. If any part's unreadable please let me know, 'cause sometimes I notice it looks like people leave out words/chunks of sentences and I was wondering if maaaybe the uploader does that?

Also *embarrassed flush* does anyone know how to put things in italics on here? Will normal word work, or do I have to code it like [i] that? [/i] I dunno...anyway. Onto the story!

Consciousness slowly found its way through the fog shrouding his mind.

An unearthly stench assaulted his nostrils, and he tried to reel back before he'd only opened his eyes, to find himself glued to the spot.

The next thing to offend his delicate senses was the sheer volume of screaming surrounding him ~ it was unbearable and inhuman. His skin was on fire with the feel of frost-bite and his head pounded with an ache that had already settled in the recesses of his skull. Finally he forced his eyelids to part, or rather forced the fog covering his eyes to part, realising he had no control over his body.

Pain filled the static air, sounds of torture blared into his ears, fire and ice entwined, like a twister bringing destruction to anything in it's path.

People, humans were chained to meat hook, benches, wheels, or simply suspended by an appendage, hanging helplessly in the air and awaiting inevitable destruction. The chains seemed never ending, stretching in every direction as far as the eye could see.

In front of him he could see people being ripped apart, by the twister, by the chains, by clouds of electric black smoke or other, twisted humans. He could hear them pleading, could smell them burning, could *_feel* _them dying, and he was stuck. Frozen.

It was torture.

It was chaos.

It was *_**hell**_*.

A feeble voice to his right caught his attention, it was whimpering and begging, 'please...brother...please', and he felt his head turn unbidden.

Adam knelt on the floor, surrounded by chains and bones, spluttering and coughing blood while his eyes shimmered.

Sam's hand reached out towards his brother and clenched into a fist. He felt the power and despair running through him as Adam retched and leapt into the air, landing impossibly slowly on unsteady feet, blood pouring from every orifice.

"Please." He choked out, stronger this time. The hand flicked and Adam flew through the air, crashing into the invisible wall of their cage with a dull 'thud'. His little brother rose again and fixed his eyes to Sam's. The bleeding stopped. "Please, brother, please forgive me. I didn't know this," he gestured to their surroundings, "...I'm sorry brother. This, this is Hell." Sam felt a response on his tongue, but with his last word Michael left his vessel. Adam slumped against the walls again, crumpling to the floor.

A light brighter than the brightest star radiated through their corner of hell, illuminating their cage. Michael's true form flowed and pulsed in the air, stretching out to reach Sam. Awe and love filled him briefly, before the light retreated again. With a sound of rustling wings the Archangel flew upwards until he was just a bright spark in the distance, before disappearing altogether.

Lucifer, it turned out, was not quite as popular as he used to be, with the demons at least. None obeyed him, many came to peer in on the cage and mock the Morning Star. Crowley paid a visit, still in his meat suit, and waved cheerfully before sauntering off. Death sneered at him and left. Meg, or as Lucifer knew her Axareal, simply informed him no one cared, and most demons were happy on earth playing with humans, so she couldn't be bothered to help him. But none of that mattered to the fallen angel, because even though Michael had left him, his brother had accepted him, *loved* him again.

To Sam his time in hell could have been worse, although that was probably due to Michael's little light show, it was Adam he felt sorry for. The poor kid had only been trying to help save the world and see his mom again, now he was stuck in hell for eternity with a less than pissed Lucifer, no one to talk to other than the devil himself, and no reprieve from the general insanity that was hell. At least Sam could pass out or bury himself in his mind.

One day/night/decade (because who could *really* tell?) Sam thought he spotted a light high above him. Lucifer, obviously, since he'd been the one actually looking up, spotted it too. Sam was surprised when the devil wasn't happy, assuming it was Michael returning. As it turned out it was another one of his brothers.

Gabriel was tired. Very freaking tired. He'd gone to the liberty of sneaking the rings away from Dean, while combating a very extreme dose of guilt and empathy, to open a quick door to hell, when he found it didn't work. He had no idea *why* it didn't work, but naturally, or naturally for an Archangel turned Trickster turned Archangel with newly charged emotions, he was pissed. More than pissed. He destroyed most of the coast line of Miami overnight with a storm, but repaired it mostly when the guilt kicked in again. That was really the most *annoying* emotion. He could deal with his throat closing up when he thought of Sam, in hell, because really he didn't actually need to breathe, and he could handle being sad about things like puppies dying, or being happy about a rainbow (but really how pathetic was *that*?), he could even put up with feeling queasy about killing a demon (he needed to find Dean somehow, and boy did Cas do a good job with hiding them), but the one thing, the one damned thing he could not *stand* was guilt. Who needed guilt? How did that help him in any way? All it served to do was distract him from his purpose. It kept making him do stupid things like fixed a destroyed coast line, bringing a demon's dead vessel back to life and repairing Dean's beloved car when he smashed it after thinking he'd lost the rings. Long story short? Gabriel *hated* guilt.

In the end he used an old abandoned hell gate in Wyoming to get into the pit. It was tiresome. He searched for what felt like *months*, smiting anything that tried to cross him with less than a thought, until he finally, *finally* sensed some grace in the air. He recognised it as Michaels and followed it, going down deeper and deeper into the pits of torment, sometimes losing the trail as it became too weak. After hours? Days? He finally saw it. Directly below him. On the lowest level of perdition, deeper than wrath, envy and even pride, deeper than those who burned for murder, child abuse, was his brother, in Sam's body, with Adam and a whole host of other mortals, foolish enough to sell their souls. Grief wracked his non-corporeal form, grief and pity for the souls of people who didn't deserve that kind of torture.

They made their choices.

He sped onwards.

A/Ns: Okay, anyone else hate when you write tons of A4 pages and they're like 400 words? That's really aggravating. I'm trying to show the emotions Gabriel's going through, but I think I'm playing on it too much, so sorry for that :/.

Thanks for reading! Reviews are golden tickets! Or tickets to Asylum 5! 3

P.S Anyone else find it awesome Crowley took a pic of him and Bobby? :P Sorry but I just saw that episode today, and man if that isn't comedy gold I dunno what is :'D. Seriously though what even made Sam ask?


End file.
